


Promises

by kaitovsheiji



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Off-screen Caracter Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 01:58:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4545843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaitovsheiji/pseuds/kaitovsheiji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras had never made a promise he didn't intend to keep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises

Enjolras had never made a promise he didn’t intend to keep. Whatever he’d said before, whatever he’d sworn, he’d always had a plan to make it come true, **always**. But with the streets of Paris full of corpses, and three of his friends missing, Enjolras found himself making promises that he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep, speaking without thinking.

 

" _He’s fine, he’ll get to us where we said we’d meet_ ” he had said on the second day when Joly had seemed ready to run outside and search everywhere for his boyfriend. Musichetta had sobbed in the doctor’s shoulder as he gave up his quest but the tension never left his shoulders.

“ _Everything will be okay_ ” he’d whispered in Courf’s ear as the normally happy-go-lucky Asian looked longingly outside the window, a shadow darkening his sight. The younger let out a bitter laugh, and answered with a ‘ _Yeah…We’ll be okay, right?_ ’ as a plea invaded his eyes instead.

“ _We can all survive this_ ” he voiced out, half-way through his encouragement speech, while he was explaining who’d go into town first and what’d they have to get. Cosette and Marius looked up at him, their hands tightly entwined.

“ _I know he’s out there. I know they’re out there. And they will make it back_ ” he shouted at Grantaire, voice breaking, when the drunk finally provoked him enough to let his feelings show.

“ _They’re not them anymore_ ” he tried to convince his friends when the bodies of Jehan and Bossuet found them. Still, his hand shook as he reached for the firearm in his belt. Grantaire shot first, hands surprisingly still for someone who’s supposed to be experiencing withdrawal. Musichetta finished the work, her other hand not letting go of Joly’s.

“ _He promised he’d be alright_ ” he reminded Éponine, right before she had to run to the bathroom to throw up what little she’d just managed to eat.

“ _I knew you could do this_ ” he praised Bahorel when he and Feuilly came back from the city, car beaten up but Combeferre’s unconscious body on their back seat. Their mountain of a friend shook him with one hand as he walked through the back door, carrying their Guide inside. Feuilly brushed past him roughly, offering him a smile even as he frowned.

“ _You’ll be okay_ ” he affirmed his best friend, squeezing his hand between his two, hoping the blow to the head he’d received wouldn’t leave permanent damage. He was going to need him at his full capacity if they expected to find a way out of there.

“ _I don’t need anything from you_ ” he cursed at Grantaire, after the artist approached him with a worried face.

“ _She’ll be fine, Joly knows what to do_ ” he told Cosette when her best friend went into labour. Nevermind the deplorable sanitary conditions their bunks were in. Joly would have to be able to help.

“ _We need to get you there_ ” were the truest worlds he’d said since the start of this nightmare. The other two looked at him worriedly, but they too knew this was their last opportunity to make things right. They couldn’t let Combeferre’s chance discovery be for naught.

“ _There is no other way_ ” he announced, looking at each and every one of his friends in the eyes, as he spoke. He knew they understood. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help noticing the worried glances Feuilly and Courfeyrac exchanged, or the way Eponine’s grip on Cosette’s hand tightened.

“ _You have to understand, it’s the only way_ ” he tried to justify himself when he finally caved and sought Grantaire’s company. The artist whispered “ _I do_ ”, but countless ‘ _don’t go_ ’ were hidden in each and every touch they shared.

“ _I’m sorry_ ” he whispered to the dark curls lying by his side on the bed, when he woke up that intended dawn. “ _I love you_ ” he wanted to say, as he disentangled himself from the tanned limbs attaching him to the mattress and rose.

“ _Ready?_ ” he asked, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the others’. There was no going back.

“ _Go!_ ” he cried, back against the wall, finger constantly pulling the trigger. ‘ _Cosette and Combeferre must get to the lab_ ’ was the thought that kept his terrified hands from shaking.

“ _Just close the door, I’ll be fine!_ ” he pleaded Courfeyrac, knowing it wasn’t going to be long anyway. He’d been bitten almost twenty minutes ago, but hadn’t said anything, afraid of holding them up.

“ _Close the door!_ ” he repeated, as he felt the sickness start to spread in his brain. He turned around to protect what little advantage they had left with a final “ _Go!_ ”

A sigh escaped his lips as he heard the door close and his shoulders relaxed for barely the second it took for a hand to touch him there. He spun and pointed his gun to the black, messy curls, blood-shot, red-rimmed, blue eyes staring up at him.

“ _Together_?” He heard as a fire arm was aimed at his forehead.

“ _Together_ ” he smiled, taking the other’s free hand with his own.


End file.
